


No Longer The Lost

by amberwoods



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Post-ACOMAF, bit angsty, first meeting after elain was made, mentioned tamlin, mentioned tarquin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberwoods/pseuds/amberwoods
Summary: After what happened in Hybern, Lucien and Elain have gone their own way. However, a war is raging, and soon they are both sent to the Summer Court; Lucien to find an ally in Tarquin, and Elain to find an ally in Lucien.Elucien Week #1: I'll see you again





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really adore the Summer Court, so that's where this takes place. In my mind, Rhysand immediately reached out to Tarquin after what happened in Hybern and explained everything to him, so Tarquin is on their side now and they can become the bff's they both watn to be.

Lucien strolled through the harbour of Adriata, set for the wooden stairs that would lead him down to the water. He hadn’t got used to the strong sunlight yet, the hot wind that carried the scent of salt everywhere he went. It was beautiful, though. He loved the Summer Court. It was hard not to, for anyone.

He’d been here for a week now. His aim was to convince the High Lord of the Summer Court that everything that had happened with the King of Hybern had been Rhysand’s fault. Considering that Rhysand had stolen the Book of Breathings from Tarquin, Tamlin thought it would be easy. Yet Lucien had been here for a week now, and he still saw the wary look in Tarquin’s eyes. Tarquin still carefully asked about how Feyre was doing every day or about what _Lucien_ thought of the situation in the Spring Court, the situation with Hybern. Lucien was getting a harder and harder time keeping his mouth shut.

What did he think? He thought that Feyre was home, and she seemed to have forgotten everything about her time under Rhysand’s spell, but he could not get the sight of her with those horrifying Illyrian wings out of his head. The things she’d said to him that day, the sincerity and raw honesty behind them. He thought that Feyre didn’t seem concerned enough about her sisters. Sure, every time he or Tamlin asked why she was staring off into nothing with an agonised expression, she said she was scared for her sisters. But Lucien _knew_ that look. He _knew_ where it came from. He saw it in the mirror every time he ached for his Mate.

Elain. She was still in the hands of the Night Court. He hadn’t even exchanged a single word with her. His Mate. After all these centuries, there she was.

Lucien walked down the stairs quickly and sat down on the lowest step to take off his boots. He put them down underneath the stairs and let his bare feet rest in the golden sand.

What did he think? He thought that he had damned his Mate to the life of Fae because he had been too cowardly to speak up against his High Lord. He thought that Feyre wasn’t happy, and never again would be, and he was partially to blame for that. He thought he had delivered all the humans below the wall to the King of Hybern and all that blood would be on his hands as much as on Tamlin’s. He thought he was here, trying to convince Tarquin of something he didn’t believe himself.

With a sigh, he got to his feet and started walking to the shore. The water was coming in. He halted right in front of it, waiting for the water to come closer and swallow him. Soon, the sea nipped at his toes and his soles sank into the wet sand. The feeling calmed him more than he probably deserved.

“Lucien.”

His head snapped up.

She looked dazzling. Her golden-brown hair danced around her on the sea breeze. Her face was flawless, her brown eyes deep and molten. She was wearing a light, blue summer dress, that rolled down to her ankles and clung to her legs in the wind.  

He swallowed hard at the sight of her. “Elain…” he stammered.

He should run away from her. He should winnow her back to the Spring Court immediately.

Instead, he is frozen.

She looks at him, and, slowly, gives him a pained smile.

After Elain was taken back to the Night Court, she locked herself up in her apartment. They’d given her a beautiful, large place, in the middle of Velaris, so she could get used to city life and fae life and hopefully still feel like herself. But even if she spent days staring out of her window at the people and the life, she didn’t leave her apartment.

The only ones she opened her door for were Nesta and Amren. Nesta because she needed her sister now more than ever, and Amren because she knew not to refuse her.

She kept to her apartment and tried out her powers carefully, because she knew what was coming.

It was Azriel who first brought it up, eventually. She knew what he was there for the moment she saw him standing at her door. She knew why they sent him. She let him in, and listened to him explain what they needed her to do.

She needed to get Lucien on their side.

Elain refused. She told Azriel to leave. When Nesta came to ask her why, she just told her that she wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t manipulate her Mate. She wouldn’t even see him. She couldn’t.

How could she see Lucien and not want to get to know him? She’d collected all the information about him she could find. She missed him even though she didn’t know him. She couldn’t get the memory of him out of her mind.

How could she go to him and manipulate him? How could she use something like their Mating Bond for that?

So instead, she locked herself up.

It was Rhysand who convinced her, in the end. She hadn’t been able to send him away when he stood pleading at her door. He needed to know Feyre was alright, he said. He needed to know what was happening in the Spring Court.

It was the thought of her sister that made her give in. Reluctantly.

Now here she was. In the Summer Court, where they’d known Lucien would be sent to. Where she’d made ties with the High Lord and explained the situation to him. Where she’d tried to ready herself for what she had to do.

He was staring at her, his red hair dancing in the breeze like hers. He was beautiful. Even with the scars on his face, even with his golden eye, his beauty made her lose her breath.

There he was.

 _Oh,_ Lucien thought, _this is what Tarquin has been hiding from me._

Her. That was it. She’d been here all along. She’d probably asked them not to tell him that she was there. That was that strange secretive note in Tarquin’s voice. That was the pity in his eyes.

Elain lips quivered a little when she widened her smile. “How are you?”

He just stood there, still staring at her, fumbling for words. “Elain,” he eventually whispered again.

She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry. She hardly felt the ocean licking at her feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. I needed more courage.”

Pain took over his expression, poured from his eyes. He flinched. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely.

His apology filled her with tenderness. He could see it in her eyes as she walked over to him. The water splashed softly where she touched it.

She halted right in front of him, within reach, but not so close they could accidentally touch. Something inside him pulled and twitched.

“Tamlin gave you everything,” Elain told him softly, “You just don’t want to give up on him.” She smiled at him again. “I understand.”

He felt like he might cry. There was more to it than that, she had to understand. He was scared of opposing Tamlin. He knew what they were doing was wrong, but he did it anyway. Wasn’t that even more unforgivable than doing something thinking it’s justified, like Tamlin did? He should have stopped him.

Elain reached out and rested her hand on his cheek, wiping away a tear with her thumb. He actually was crying, then. He hadn’t even noticed.

“I forgive you,” she told him softly.

He knew she was telling the truth. She was beaming with forgiveness. He hung his head. His hair fell in front of his face, tickling her hand. She pushed it away with her other hand and took his face in her hands. Her thumb carefully caressed the damaged skin around his eye. He tried not to look at her.

“You’re scared…” she whispers.

He looks at her.

“So am I,” she says, her voice shaking, so, so brave.

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to take her back to the Spring Court anymore. He doesn’t even want Tamlin to know she was here.

“Are you safe here?” he asks.

She nods. “Yes. Tarquin takes good care of me. I’m trying to figure out how to be Fae.”

“How did you escape?”

“You know they let me go.” She smiled at him again. “You know they’re not what they seem.”

Yes. Yes, he knew. Or he suspected as much. How could he not, when looking at Feyre?

As if reading his mind, Elain frowned. “How’s Feyre?”

“She’s lost weight again,” Lucien whispered.

Elain nodded again. She’d expected that. “She’ll be alright. She’s strong. Besides…”

Time seemed to stop as Elain leaned in closer and closer, pulling him down, until she could press her forehead against his own. Lucien let out a whimper.

“I know you’ll protect her,” Elain whispered, her eyes closed, “You’re stronger than you think, Lucien. I can feel it. Every day, you get stronger.”

Lucien stared at her closed eyes, the perfect skin of her eyelids, her long black lashes.

“You have to protect her from him,” she murmured, “You have to help her. There’s still time. We can still save them.”

Time. Time to prevent the bloodshed. Time to keep his hands clean. Time to stop Tamlin.

Lucien took a staggering breath.

Elain smiled and opened her eyes, removing her hands from his face and taking one of his hands in his. It was big, and rough, and warm, and she never wanted to let it go again. She wanted to go with him and never let him be alone. He’d been alone for far too long.

“I’ll wait for you,” she said. She noticed the water had risen to her calves. “I’ll be right here. I’ll see you again.”

Part of Lucien wanted to protest. She shouldn’t be waiting for him. She should be wild and free and make a life for herself. An eternity.

Yet he nodded. “I’ll be better,” he told her softly, “I’ll try harder. I won’t let him… I won’t let this end in innocent deaths.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll protect her, too.”

Elain smiled at him and squeezed back. “I know.”

Then, she let go of his hand, and took a step back. She clasped her hands behind her back.

He knew he would never forget this sight of her, feet in the ocean, sun on her face, waiting for him with unending patience.

“We have time,” she told him again.

Carefully, very carefully, he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Edit: my apologies for the amount of times I switched tenses in this! I'll fix it at some point ;)


End file.
